The Little Things
by silvershadeus
Summary: Yohji's feeling a little blue...
1. Default Chapter

This is a (late) birthday present for Hoshiko, for all the things she's done for me in the past, and for all the things I know she'll wind up doing for me in the future. The best sister I never had. Love you, star kid.

~silvershadeus~

Disclaimer: I do not own Weiß Kreuz, I'm just borrowing the characters for a bit.

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**The Little Things - Part 1**

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It was the little things that made a difference. The things that he took for granted, that he had assumed would always be there...until now.   
  
The way there would always be a fresh spray of flowers in the chipped vase on his bedside table every morning. The way there would always be a note tucked into a small envelope held in place by that vase. The way the note would be signed 'Love, Omi.'   
  
It was the little things that had made everything worthwhile. The little things that had made all the difference in his life, and he'd never realized.   
  
It made the fact that there wouldn't be any fresh flowers appearing in that vase as though by magic all the more painful. It made him realize that he wasn't going to find any handwritten notes that overflowed with love and affection waiting for him that morning. It made everything seem...less alive, somehow. Less real.   
  
Sighing, Yohji tore his gaze away from the empty vase and rubbed his eyes wearily. It had been a long night, and it promised to be an even longer day. He had the morning shift with Ken, as Aya had vanished the day before with a curt 'I'll be back on Thursday.' And as for Omi...well, he was better off just not thinking about it.  
  
There had been speculation on Aya's destination of course, but deep down they knew where he was going. It was the time of year when the memories seemed clearer, the pain sharper. The time of year when you the skeletons in your closet clamored for release.   
  
Shaking his head, Yohji got to his feet, grimacing at the icy shock of early winter morning floor on bare feet. He was positive he'd been wearing socks when he'd gone to bed last night... A look around his room revealed not only the missing socks, but also several days worth of dirty laundry piling up in the far corner by the dresser.  
  
"Yohji! Are you up yet? We've got the morning shift!"  
  
Growling under his breath, Yohji stalked towards his door and jerked it open, green eyes slitted as Ken raised his fist to knock.  
  
"Don't push it, Kenken."  
  
Blinking, Ken lowered his hand and studied Yohji closely, dark eyes puzzled.  
  
"You look like shit, Yohji."  
  
Taking a step forward, Yohji glared down at his teammate, putting all of his considerable irritation and annoyance into the look.   
  
Shrugging, Ken tipped his head to the side and crossed his arms, eyes narrowing thoughtfully.  
  
"What'd you do, sleep in a dumpster last night?"   
  
Raking a hand through his hair in frustration and to keep from throttling Ken, Yohji winced as his fingers encountered a snarled tangle of hair. Green eyes sliding closed as he carefully extracted his fingers, Yohji counted slowly backwards from ten, in the hopes it would calm him down. He was certain that it would be frowned upon to kill or even slightly maim Ken simply because he was in a bad mood.  
  
"Ken...go away. Go away and don't bother me."  
  
Eyes snapping open as he felt the light pressure of a hand on his shoulder, Yohji found himself looking into Ken's sympathetic gaze.   
  
"Yohji, I know it's early, but we have to do this. Are you going to face Aya when he gets back and tell him that the shop was closed the whole time because we didn't feel like it?"  
  
Yohji felt certain sense of impending doom as Ken's words sank in. On one hand was working the morning shift with Ken, but on the other was the very real possibility of facing a very annoyed Aya.   
  
Who would no doubt demand to know why the Koneko had been closed, and exactly who was going to pay for all the flowers that had gone unsold. And who would undoubtedly take that chunk of unsold greenery out of Yohji's own meager paycheck.  
  
While the first option held the potential to fray the last of his nerves, if only for the fact that he would have to be awake before noon, the second was unthinkable. Aya miffed was not a good thing. Aya miffed with something pertaining to financial matters was...not pretty.   
  
Right. There was only one choice then.  
  
"Fine. I'll be down in ten minutes."  
  
Cocking an eyebrow at Yohji's surly tone of voice, Ken drew his hand back as though expecting Yohji to bite it off at the elbow. He certainly looked capable of it at the moment.  
  
"It's only been a couple of days, Yohji."  
  
Yohji bared even white teeth in something vaguely resembling a smile, though the sentiment behind it was something altogether different.  
  
"When I want your input, I'll be sure to ask for it, Kenken."  
  
Snorting, Ken shook his head and turned to go.   
  
"God but you're an ass in the morning, Yohji."   
  
Something pricked at Yohji's conscience at Ken's words, but he easily ignored it in favor of wallowing in his own misery.  
  
"Look, Kenken - "  
  
"He'll be back, you know. And then what are you going to tell him?"  
  
Seething inwardly, Yohji did the mental countdown once more, this time in English. He needed the practice anyway.  
  
"Ken, go now. Before I decide telling Aya about that night with your soccer kids and that waitress would be a good thing."  
  
Ken's eyes widened in horror, one hand flying to his mouth.  
  
"You wouldn't."  
  
Yohji grinned, revealing more teeth.  
  
"Try me."  
  
Ken backed up a step, unnerved by the look in Yohji's eyes as much as the wolfish expression on his face.  
  
"You'd be implicating yourself too, Yohji!" He protested, hands fisting at his side.  
  
Yohji's eyes narrowed.  
  
"At this point in time I really don't care, Kenken. You know how Aya gets. Compared to that, I think I'll be getting off pretty lightly, don't you?"  
  
The hell of it was, Ken _did_ know how Aya was about certain things. And it was that knowledge, as well as a hefty dose of self-preservation that made his decision for him. He'd back down this once, but not without having the last word.  
  
"That's because _yours_ doesn't have issues, Yohji."  
  
Yohji's smile faded a little, losing that sharp edge that had so unnerved Ken.   
  
Maybe it was the possessive note in the way Ken had said 'yours', but Yohji couldn't help but feel that protective streak in him bristle. Maybe it was the way Ken seemed to think that Aya was the only one of them who had 'issues'. Or maybe it was too damned early in the morning and Yohji was simply in a foul mood.  
  
"Don't forget that afternoon at the ice cream parlor, Kenken. I'm sure Aya would just _love_ to hear all about it." Yohji said sweetly, mentally rubbing his hands together.  
  
Oh yes, Aya _would_ so love to hear all about little Kenken's exploits with the opposite sex while he wasn't around. Especially the ones where he was openly propositioned.   
  
Hissing between his teeth, Ken backed up another step.  
  
"Fine. Have it your way, Yohji. Just do me one favor first."  
  
Yohji's eyes narrowed.  
  
"What?"  
  
Ken smiled, that smile of his that meant he was filing this conversation away for later. The smile that promised sweet retribution one day. The one that Yohji had learned to be wary of.  
  
"Take a shower first. You reek of...well, you just reek."

*********

"Yohji, what are you doing?"  
  
Clenching his teeth on the end of the unlit cigarette, Yohji concentrated on trimming the delicately shaped banzai tree on the table before him. It was one of his guilty pleasures - the banzai tree, not the cigarette. _Those_ he had sworn off long ago.  
  
"What does it look like, Kenken?" He returned dryly, peering closely at a lower branch of the miniature tree.  
  
"I thought you gave those up."  
  
Brushing away the fallen clippings, Yohji turned the pot to get a different angle, forehead furrowed in concentration.  
  
"The banzai trees?" He asked absently, moving the clippers to his left hand as he straightened out a small branch with his right.  
  
"No. The cigarette. I thought you gave up smoking."  
  
Exasperation was plain in Ken's voice, as was annoyance, irritation, and frustration.  
  
Pausing in what he was doing, Yohji looked over at the younger man, one eyebrow arched in silent inquiry.  
  
Sighing again, Ken got to his feet and crossed the distance separating them. Reaching out, he snagged the dangling cigarette and held in front of Yohji at eye level.  
  
"Well?"  
  
Yohji blinked.  
  
"Where did that come from?"  
  
Ken just stared at him.   
  
"Kenken?"  
  
"You honestly don't know?"  
  
Yohji shrugged, lifting one hand to brush a lock of hair that fallen over his eyes behind one ear.  
  
"Well it's not like the nicotine fairy brought it, Kenken. It must have been reflex. I haven't lit one of those for over a month now."  
  
Snapping the cigarette in two in his hand, Ken gave Yohji an odd look.  
  
"Reflex?"  
  
Turning back to his banzai tree, Yohji shrugged again.  
  
"Yeah, you know. Reflex. An involuntary response to a stimulus?" He muttered, poking gently at the banzai tree with one finger.  
  
Flinging the remains of the cigarette into the trashcan beside the table Yohji was working on, Ken leaned back against the counter opposite it.   
  
"I know what a reflex is, Yohji. What I want to know is how was _that_ a reflex?"  
  
"You've never been addicted to anything, have you, Kenken?" Yohji asked, getting up to set the banzai tree in the back room.  
  
Wondering what that had to do with anything, Ken shook his head, forgetting that Yohji couldn't see it.  
  
"When you're addicted, you're always looking for that next fix. You're always looking for a way so that you don't have to come off of whatever high you're on."  
  
Turning to watch Yohji as the older man stepped out of the back room, Ken watched curiously as Yohji dug into the front pocket of his work apron.  
  
"So you start leaving stashes around. A little bit here, a little bit there. You always leave them in places you know you'll be for a while. The living room. The kitchen. Even where you work." Yohji finished, pulling a half-empty pack of cigarettes from his apron's pocket.  
  
Ken stared.  
  
"You smoked in the shop?"  
  
The words 'And Omi didn't kill you for it?' went unspoken.  
  
There was no possible way Yohji could have lit one of his cigarettes in the shop without Omi knowing. And if Omi knew Yohji had been smoking in the shop...  
  
Ken shuddered at the thought.  
  
Yohji had a similar horrified look on his face.  
  
"What, do you think I'm stupid? Of course not. I just kept them around. It...made me feel better just having one in my mouth, even if I couldn't smoke it."  
  
There was something in the way he said that that niggled at Ken's mind. There had been a note of...almost loneliness and longing in his voice. Sadness.  
  
"Like now?" He asked, a small smile playing on his lips.  
  
Yohji nodded, turning the pack of cigarettes over in his hands.  
  
"Yeah. Like now."  
  
Shaking his head, Ken pushed off from the counter and walked past Yohji on his way to the cash register as he saw customers crowding the windows of the shop.  
  
"He is coming back, you know, Yohji. It's just a few days."  
  
Tossing the cigarettes away, Yohji nodded, checking to see that his apron was tied securely before he headed towards the shop's door.  
  
"I know, I know...it's just so...quiet without him here." Yohji said, wincing even as the words left his mouth.  
  
It hadn't quite been what he'd wanted to say. 'Quiet' hardly began to describe the way things were without Omi around. Everything was just..._different_ without the younger blonde there. And despite what others might think, Yohji was a creature of habit, and he hated having his daily life disturbed in any way.   
  
"I know what you mean," Ken said, throwing him a sympathetic look, "But he deserves to be a normal kid every once in a while too, you know. Who knows? Maybe this whole experience will be a good thing for you."  
  
Snorting, Yohji shot Ken a half-hearted glare and steeling himself for it - flipped the sign to 'Open' - thereby signaling the first wave of schoolgirl/rabid hormone-crazed-teenage girls-posing-as-customers rush of the day. 

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**TBC...**

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	2. Not what you thought, was it?

Ehh...part two of Hoshiko's (late) birthday present. Just what you wanted, star kid. Yohji angst with a side of Omi angst. Yay! ^_^;;

~silvershadeus~

Disclaimer: I do not own _ Weiß Kreuz_, I'm just borrowing the characters for a bit.

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**The Little Things - Part 2**

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Omi did not have a good feeling about what he was doing. In fact, he was feeling more than slightly nervous about it, although it would have killed him to admit to such a thing. Glancing at his watch, he sighed and got to his feet. Crossing the room, he paused, looking back over his shoulder at the large window.  
  
The view really was quite beautiful, and for once he wished he could simply appreciate it for what it was.   
  
Sighing again, he made his way to the coffee maker and poured himself a cup, grimacing when he realized it had gone cold some time before. Not that he particularly liked the taste of coffee, but he'd been working late into the night the last few days and needed the boost the caffeine could give him to remain awake and alert.  
  
Sipping the cold coffee, his gaze flicked back to the window and the buildings beyond, a wry twist to his lips.  
  
He hated this, oh how he hated it. Even though he knew it was necessary, some part of him couldn't help but feel that it was wrong. That he should have refused. Something was going to happen, and he just knew that it was not going to be _good_  
  
Idly, he wondered how Yohji and Ken were handling the shop on their own while he'd been gone. Yohji, he was sure, was bound to be surly and obstinate in his absence. He'd heard enough about it from Ken the last time he'd been away for a few days on a school trip, something that had both amused and horrified him.  
  
Amused because he'd never imagined that he had that much of an impact in Yohji's life to be missed so sorely, and horrified because...well, it was frightening that Yohji needed him that badly. Oh certainly he'd been touched beyond words at the realization that Yohji loved him that much, but it was dangerous for Yohji to need him so much. Dangerous for him to need Yohji that much.  
  
They had no guarantees, even less than other people, that they would be able to be by each other's side for the rest of their lives. They had no guarantee that they would be able to grow old together, and that was what scared Omi. Because he wanted that. He wanted it more than he could say.  
  
The four of them flirted with death on a daily basis, and quite honestly, he was amazed that all of them were still alive after so long. Which only made that fear all the stronger. If Yohji was like that when he was gone for less than a week, what would he be like if he were gone forever?  
  
Strangely enough, Omi didn't find the fact that he was contemplating his own death odd. He was, not quite resigned to it, but he accepted that it was inevitable in his line of work. He wasn't stupid, he knew that sooner or later he would run into someone who was better and faster than he was, and when that day came, he could only hope that his was the only life taken.  
  
Perhaps it was a bit fatalistic of him, but he didn't care. So long as the others were safe, that was all that mattered to him.   
  
Sighing once more, he dumped the rest of his coffee in the sink and rinsed the cup out, setting it upside down on the counter to dry. Walking back to his laptop, he settled back into the couch and waited for the blueprints to finish downloading.  
  
Almost of their own will, his eyes went to the window once more. He could glimpse the roof of the building across the way, a small office building that reached only a third of the height of the hotel he was staying at. Which, he knew, had been part of the reason that particular hotel had been chosen in the first place.   
  
He'd had trouble signing into the hotel that first day due to his appearance. As Yohji delighted in telling him, on numerous occasions, he hardly looked his age. The desk clerk had taken one look at him when he'd requested a room, and nearly burst out laughing.   
  
Her expression had turned grim and foreboding the moment he requested a room for two, which he was sure hadn't looked very good. He'd had no choice but to trust in the fact that Yohji had known what he'd been talking about when he gave people 'that look of his'. Yohji had claimed that no one, not even surly, cranky Aya could resist it.  
  
So he'd smiled prettily for the poor old woman, and she'd crumbled instantly. She handed him papers, which he'd signed, still with that look on his face, and then she'd handed him a pair of card keys. She'd offered to get a bellhop to help him with his bags, but he'd upped the wattage of his smile and politely refused.  
  
Gifting her with another one of his bright smiles, he'd made his way to the stairwell, instinctively avoiding the elevator. By the time he reached the floor his assigned room was on he was nearly out of breath, and was more than relived to have at last reached his destination.  
  
That had been two days ago, and he'd been cooped up in the room since then, busy plotting a strategy for the mission Manx had forced on him. Earlier that morning he'd accessed city planner computers for the blueprints for the office building he'd been watching the last few days.   
  
He wanted, with a sort of desperation that he'd never felt before, for the whole thing to be over with. He wanted to go back to his apartment over the flower shop, hug Yohji, and do other things with him. He wanted to go back where he could be with his friends and laugh and joke with them. He hated working alone, and he hated working alone without being able to tell the others about what he was doing.  
  
It had been hard enough telling Yohji that he was going on a class field trip out of town for a few days, but having to lie to Yohji had nearly killed him. Even as he'd had Yohji sign the release papers that would allow him to go on the trip, there had been a little voice in Omi's mind screaming that what he was doing was wrong.  
  
Everything that he'd ever learned, that he'd ever been told about relationships like the one he ad with Yohji said that they should be based on truth. And he'd done his best to follow that creed, but he'd had no choice this one time. And Yohji, as one of his legal guardians hadn't even been aware that he'd been lying.  
  
He'd felt sick at that. That he was apparently such a good liar that even Yohji, who knew him best, didn't know when he was lying. Yohji trusted him, believed him when he told him things, whether it be about flowers or something mission related. Yohji listened to him, and he took his advice to heart.   
  
Such a little thing, but it meant the world to Omi.  
  
Starting as a series of sharp knocks on the outer door of the room, Omi spared a glance at his laptop as he stood up. Paranoia having been ingrained into him from the beginning of his life with Kritiker, Omi grabbed one of his darts and tucked it into his sleeve, just in case.   
  
Making his way into the main room of the suite, Omi paused to look through the fisheye viewer, his lips twisting into a wry smile as he recognized his visitor. Stepping back, he undid the chain and deadbolt before opening the door. He took another step back as he pulled the door open to allow his guest entry.  
  
Closing and locking the door, Omi brushed past the slender figure, leading the way to the side room where he'd set up his laptop.  
  
"I'm downloading the building blueprints at the moment, and I think I see a way into the building. Manx gave me the information we'll need once we're inside."   
  
Violet eyes swept over the room, eventually coming to rest on Omi.   
  
"How long?"  
  
His forehead furrowing as he frowned, Omi nibbled on his bottom lip for a moment before replying.  
  
"Three hours at the most. They have heavy security on their files, which is why we were called in, I think. It'll take at least twenty to thirty minutes for me to crack their password and bypass any other security measures the might have added since the last time Kritiker tried to get at their files. Then another fifteen to twenty minutes to filter through their legitimate business files to find what we're looking for. Probably an hour to an hour and a half to copy everything to disk and plant the virus, and then another thirty minutes to cover my tracks. That gives us a little over an hour of extra time, just in case."  
  
Aya nodded at the younger man's estimation. That sounded about right, even with the padded time.  
  
"Get on it when you're ready."  
  
Omi nodded, and then paused as he caught Aya's expression.  
  
"Aya?"  
  
Shaking his head, the redhead looked down at his teammate, trying to tell himself that the feeling of foreboding he felt was simply his own imagination.  
  
"I dislike this entire situation."   
  
Omi knew what he was saying, and he agreed wholeheartedly with the redhead. They were used to doing missions that required only two people, that wasn't out of the ordinary. What was this time was the fact that they had been forced into taking a mission that would normally take three people at the least, and going into it with just the two of them. Added to that the fact that they had had to keep the mission a secret from heir other teammates, and it added up to something neither of them liked to think about.  
  
He shrugged helplessly.   
  
"Manx's orders." He said, knowing here was nothing else he _could_ say.  
  
From the moment they'd joined Weiß, their lives had stopped being theirs. They had no choice in situations like the one they were in now, which had been made abundantly clear on previous occasions.  
  
Aya made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat and walked over to the window.   
  
Shrugging to himself, Omi turned back to his laptop, all too aware of Aya's presence a few feet away. He could all but feel the redhead's unease from where he sat.  
  
"What did you tell them?" Omi asked, not looking up from the screen of his laptop.  
  
Aya snorted softly, violet eyes scanning the city skyline before him.  
  
Glancing up at the older man, Omi felt his lips quirk into a small smile. He should have known, considering that this was Aya he was talking to.  
  
"You just left, didn't you?"  
  
Aya turned to look at him, one eyebrow arched.  
  
"I told them I'd be back on Thursday."  
  
Omi stifled the urge to laugh. The others knew better by now than to question Aya whenever he went off on his own, which was to their benefit this time. Neither Ken nor Yohji would have risked one of Aya's glares out of idle curiosity. Most likely, they would assume that he'd gone somewhere to brood, or to see the mysterious sister of his that they'd all heard about but never actually seen.   
  
"And I'll be on my 'class trip' until Tuesday. They'll never know, will they?"  
  
If there was a hint of regret in Omi's voice, neither of them acknowledged it.  
  
Aya shrugged and turned back to his city watching.  
  
Omi sighed inwardly and sat back, getting as comfortable as he could.  
  
"There are two bedrooms, you can take the one on the left if you want to rest before the mission tonight, Aya."   
  
The redhead nodded, although he did not seemed inclined to move from his position any time soon. Omi shrugged again. It was Aya's call if he wanted to catch some sleep, not his. He'd simply offered him the option.   
  
As though sensing the direction of Omi's thoughts, Aya glanced at him, one corner of his mouth turned up into the barest of smiles.  
  
"Thank you, Omi."  
  
Pleasantly surprised, Omi smiled back at him.  
  
"You're welcome, Aya."  
  
Feeling a little better, Omi fiddled with a loose thread on the cuff of his sleeve, wondering why Manx had chosen him and Aya for this particular mission.   
  
He knew he was necessary for the mission for his computer skills, but as for Aya...why him and not Yohji or Ken? And why had she planned it so that it wouldn't seem as if the two of them were on a mission together?   
  
Manx had obviously planned the whole mission situation very carefully. Omi's class was indeed on a trip to Kyoto and would be out of town until Tuesday. That way none of his classmates could show up at the flower shop in his absence and give him away. And Aya leaving to go off on his own was a routine occurrence. The fact that he would be getting back a few days after Omi did would dispel any suspicion that the two of them had been involved in anything together.   
  
Or so the theory went.  
  
Sighing, Omi rubbed his eyes wearily, wishing that the damned mission were over already so that he could join his class in Kyoto and try to live a semblance of a normal life. If only for a little bit.   
  
And then his laptop beeped softly, signaling that it had finished downloading the blueprint files.

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**TBC...**

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	3. Mmmmmmm...Thai...

Part three of Hoshiko's (late) birthday present. (spider go *splat!*)^^;;

~silvershadeus~

Disclaimer: I do not own _Weiß Kreuz_, I'm just borrowing the characters for a bit.

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**The Little Things - Part 3**

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Ken had the sneaking suspicion that watching Yohji in his current frame of mind was like watching the deterioration of civilization, only on a smaller scale. He found it quite amusing when that oh-so-perfect 'lady killer' smile of his began to show strain as the day wore on and the regular schoolgirl hoard kept on coming. The way his left eye had started twitching somewhere around the eleven o'clock hour was fairly amusing as well.  
  
Admittedly, the swarm was a great deal smaller since Omi's class was out of town for the next few days, but it hardly seemed to make a dent in the sheer number of bodies being flung at them. For a moment, Ken had to wonder how Omi's school could hold so many students at one time, but passed it off as unimportant. The important thing was to make sure that Yohji didn't unintentionally snap at one of the girls, thereby damaging his reputation or the shop's customer relations.  
  
"Sorry, ladies, we're going to be closing up for a lunch in fifteen minutes. Buy whatever you wanted to now. We'll open up again in an hour." He called out, catching Yohji's eye over the crowd.  
  
Disappointed groans filled the air, accompanied by a grateful look from Yohji, who was starting to look a little wild-eyed.   
  
Turning away to hide his smile from Yohji, Ken handled the sales, letting the older man deal with wrapping the flowers and various arrangements. By the time he rang up the last dozen roses, the fifteen minutes had long since elapsed and blessed silence filled the shop once more.  
  
Yohji, taking advantage of the fact that he didn't have to push through a crowd, made his way to the front door and flipped the sign over. Turning around, he leaned against the door, rubbing his eyes and muttering something to himself. Ken couldn't quite catch all of it, but he got the underlying feeling behind it from the downward turn of Yohji's mouth and weary set to his shoulders.  
  
"Tough day, Yohji?"  
  
Oh, it was cruel to tease the older man like that, but for some reason Ken couldn't resist. Maybe it was the inner devil in him that made him do it. Payback for all the times Yohji had delighted in making his own personal life a living hell.   
  
Well, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but close enough that it didn't really matter.  
  
"You're enjoying this, aren't you."  
  
Ken managed a suitably shocked expression, although the sentiment failed to reach his eyes.  
  
"Who me? Did anyone ever tell you that you're paranoid, Yohji?"  
  
Straightening, Yohji stalked over to where Ken stood behind the register and glared down at the younger man. Ken stared up at him, a patient little smile on his lips.  
  
"Keep pushing, Hidaka. Just keep pushing."  
  
There was an implied threat in Yohji's voice, but for some reason Ken found it hard to take it to heart. It might have had something to do with Yohji's slightly frazzled appearance.  
  
"Oh come on, Yohji. You're taking this whole thing way too hard. Omi's coming back on Tuesday afternoon, you know that. And it'll be good for him to get out of town and enjoy being as close to normal as any of us can get or a while."  
  
Yohji flinched visibly at Ken's words, knowing that he was blowing things out of proportion, but he couldn't help it. He missed Omi. Missed the way he'd sneak a kiss when they thought no one was looking. Missed the way their hands would brush when they passed each other. Missed the comfortable silence between them when they worked on arrangements together in the back room.  
  
He missed all of hat. The little quiet moments they had together during the day. He missed simply being near Omi, feeling his energy wrap around him like a favorite blanket. He missed all of that, and even more so for the fact that he'd never realized how it felt to be without any of it.  
  
"You're acting like you resent him having a life outside of this shop and the missions, Yohji. Do you honestly think he hasn't noticed?"  
  
Startled by the sudden change in Ken's mood, Yohji backed p a step, green eyes wary. Ken smiled slightly at the look on Yohji's face, almost as though he were preparing for a fight.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
Rolling his eyes, Ken untied his apron and pulled it off, gesturing for Yohji to do the same with his.   
  
"I don't know why you're so damned possessive of him, and to be honest, I really don't care. I like to think it means that I can trust you to take care of him, but you need to learn to let go sometimes. Omi loves you and only you, and I know you must feel the same way towards him, right?"  
  
Yohji stared at Ken, wondering if he'd somehow stumbled into the twilight zone, or if he'd drunk a little too much the night before and was paying for it now.  
  
"Ken..."  
  
"Wait, I'm not done yet." Ken said, holding up a hand to forestall any further interruptions from the older man. "You trust him don't you?"  
  
Yohji didn't know quite what to say to that.   
  
Of course, he trusted Omi. He trusted him with his life on a nightly basis. He trusted him to know what he was doing, on a mission or not. He trusted Omi with his own life, something far more precious to Yohji than any precious stone or treasure. But most importantly, and the thing that had cost him the most, and given back tenfold, he trusted Omi with his heart.  
  
"Yes."  
  
Ken eyed him for a moment, dark eyes narrowed. Yohji shifted nervously, feeling like he was fifteen again and standing the in the headmaster's office for some prank he'd taken part in.   
  
"So then why would you act like the last thing in the world you wanted was for him to possibly have a little fun? He's never really had the chance to be around people his own age, Yohji. And he doesn't have any real friends from school. He doesn't let himself have any because he doesn't want them to get hurt because of him. Don't you think he deserves this? Just a little bit?"  
  
Hearing it like that, Yohji felt a crushing feeling of shame press down on him. He knew Ken was right. Omi was well liked by everyone at his school, but he made a point to keep those friendships - acquaintances, really - at a certain level. He didn't do the things normal teenagers did with their friends, like go to the movies or the arcade with them. And when had any of them ever actually called asking for Omi?  
  
Despite the fact that Omi didn't seem bothered by having to keep his distance with his schoolmates, Yohji knew he had to be lonely. Omi had always been surrounded by adults, and even now, he had no one his age to really talk to. No one that would immediately understand his problems the way a peer could. Ken was closest in age, but he was still Omi's senior, no matter how he acted at times.   
  
It galled him to admit that Ken was right, but he had to, just that once.   
  
"When did you get so damned smart, Kenken?"  
  
"Don't feel so bad, Yohji. I didn't even realize until a little while ago myself. Omi's good at hiding things he doesn't want people to notice, especially us."   
  
Scowling, Yohji crossed his arms and glared at Ken, some part of him bristling at Ken's tone of voice.  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
Sighing, Ken locked the register and skirted around the counter on his way to the front door of the shop. Testing the door to make sure it was locked, he glanced over his shoulder at Yohji, who had opted for a glare this time.  
  
"Knock it off, Yohji. You'll ruin that pretty face of yours glaring like that, and besides, you don't pull it off like Aya does."  
  
Smirking as Yohji gaped at him, unsure of just how to take Ken's comments, Ken walked over to him and tugged on one of his apron's straps.  
  
"Come on, Yohji. We've only got an hour for lunch, then it's back to dealing with the unruly mob. Chinese sound all right to you?"  
  
"How do you do it?"  
  
Blinking at Yohji's rather cryptic question, Ken tipped his head to the side, a puzzled look in his eyes.  
  
"How do I do what?"  
  
Sighing, Yohji ran a hand through his hair, dislodging the flower petals that had somehow made it there during the course of the morning.  
  
"How you take it when Aya goes off on his own like this? With barely a word as to where he's going or what he'll be doing. Doesn't it bother you?"  
  
Ken smiled, shaking his head.  
  
"Nope."  
  
Yohji stared at him.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
Ken shrugged, his lips curving upwards into a tiny smile as he caught the obvious frustration in Yohji's voice and in his eyes.  
  
"Understanding Aya's not quite as complicated as you seem to think it is, Yohji. It's pretty basic, actually. He doesn't play mind games with anyone. Either he likes them or he doesn't. He doesn't string anyone along, and he doesn't go out of his way to hurt people. If he says he loves you, then you know it's true. If he doesn't...then he doesn't."  
  
Yohji's eyes narrowed as Ken's words registered.  
  
"Are you implying - "  
  
Ken's smile shifted to a knowing little smirk, dark eyes gleaming with amusement.  
  
"I'm not implying anything, Yohji. What it all boils down to is trust. I trust Aya, and he trusts me. We came to an understanding a long time ago. Just because he doesn't seem capable of something like love doesn't he mean he isn't."  
  
"But - "  
  
Ken sighed, glancing at his watch in annoyance.  
  
"Look, Yohji. I'd dearly love to go into graphic detail with you about my relationship with Aya, but can it wait until later? I'm starving."  
  
Yohji looked a little green at the thought of hearing all the gruesome details of Ken and Aya's relationship.   
  
"...No...that's all right. No need to tell me anything more, Kenken. I think I get the picture." Yohji said a little weakly, tugging ineffectively at the strings of his apron in a bid to get it off.  
  
Shaking his head, Ken his smile as he helped Yohji slip out of the apron.  
  
"Actually, I had Chinese for lunch yesterday...how about Thai?"  
  
Yohji nodded, following Ken meekly as they left through the back door of the shop.  
  
"Whatever you want Kenken, just please, no details."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**TBC...**

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	4. Holy cheap plot device, Batman!

Part four of Hoshiko's (late) birthday fic...which has suddenly developed a plot...of sorts. _;;

~silvershadeus~

Disclaimer: I do not own _Weiß Kreuz_, I'm just borrowing the characters for a bit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**The Little Things - Part 4**

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He'd been warned from the beginning that overconfidence and a low opinion of his enemies would get him or worse - his teammates - killed. They'd told him, even then, that he would have teammates one day, when they'd found ones with the 'proper temperaments'.  
  
Risking a look over at Aya, hunched over in the opposite corner bleeding out from a wound low on his side, Omi had to wonder at the 'proper temperaments' comment. Even a blind man would have been able to sense the undercurrent of tension running through the four of them at any time.   
  
Alone, they were able to function perfectly fine. Perhaps a little unbalanced in certain areas of skills and abilities, but able to function nonetheless. It was when you began to group them together that everything went to hell and then back again to form a somewhat imperfect balance between them.   
  
He knew that they hardly seemed to be an effective team, what with the constant bickering and occasional bout of physical violence, but strangely enough, they were. And if Manx's words were to be trusted, they were one of Kritiker's best teams ever fielded, which only made things more puzzling. Logic said that four people of such vastly different temperaments and personalities would most likely wind up either killing each shortly after meeting. And while they may have come close several times, somehow they'd managed to make a sort of peace with each other. They were a team, and perhaps more, if they'd ever admit such a thing to themselves.  
  
"Hold on a little longer, Abyssinian. I'll find a way out of here." Omi whispered, knowing that Aya could hear him perfectly well across the room via his earpiece. "I'll get us out of here."  
  
Aya grunted noncommittally, violet eyes sweeping over the office and Omi before refocusing on the outer doorway.   
  
Keeping an ear out for any sound out in the hallway, Omi turned back to gently tapping on the wall behind him. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to clear his mind of unnecessary clutter in order to visualize the building's blueprints and floor plans he'd memorized earlier. They'd been forced down three floors by the guards, having been discovered mere moments after he'd set his virus program on the target's computer system. He wasn't quite sure what had alerted them, but he had more important things to worry about.  
  
A stray bullet had hit Aya as they'd backed down the stairs, who had been doing his job protecting Omi, and the precious data he'd been able to download from the target's computer. As far as Omi had been able to tell no major blood vessel had been hit, but Aya was slowly and steadily bleeding out. If they didn't get him to proper medical care soon, he wasn't going to make it.   
  
"Bombay?"  
  
It hurt, to hear Aya sounding so weak. And it felt so wrong that Aya should be the one hurt so badly. It should have been him, Omi knew. It should have been him with the bullet in his side and blood staining his clothes.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
Omi spared the redhead a glance, hearing the impatience and slight concern coloring the older man's words. It wasn't concern for himself or even Omi, but for the sake of the mission. Aya would never admit to feeling anything resembling concern for his teammates, but Omi knew better. He could see it in Aya's eyes, if not on his face. For Aya, it was better to pretend that the mission came first, the lives of his teammates or himself second. It made sense, in Aya-logic.   
  
Omi also knew that it wouldn't take the guards long to pick through the confusing trial they'd left, and even less for them to break through the blocked doors leading to the stairwells. He'd disabled the elevators earlier using strategically placed explosives, which was beginning to look like a mistake on his part. The stairs were dangerous now, with guards beginning to swarm upwards from the ground floor and a small force moving to trap them from the upper floors.   
  
"According to the original floor plans, this used to be an old factory before they converted it into an office building." Omi replied, going back to tapping on the walls, blue eyes narrowed in concentration. "The company records showed that they didn't bother to remove the freight elevator, they just blocked the area off behind a false wall when they sectioned it off to make room for offices. It would have cost too much to get rid of it, and they still use it on the lower floors to move supplies and larger orders the company gets."  
  
Pausing as part of the wall sounded different than the rest when he tapped it, Omi allowed himself a small smile.  
  
"If I can find the hidden door, we should be able to get out of here using it." Omi said, dropping to his knees, the knife he kept strapped to his forearm dropping into his waiting palm as he twisted his wrist sharply. [1]   
  
Using the sharp edge of the small knife, he pried away some of the cheap wood paneling to reveal a small lever set low along the bottom of the wall. Flipping his knife around, he used the butt as a hammer to disengage the lever. Stopping when he heard an almost inaudible 'click', Omi returned his knife to its sheath, getting to his feet in one smooth motion.   
  
Stepping back, he eyed the section of wall directly before him, searching for the outline of a door, and he wasn't disappointed when he did. Barely a shade darker than the paneling around it, was a rectangular shape just the right size for a door.  
  
Turning to face Aya, Omi's smile widened a notch.  
  
"Manx also told me that the target used it to escape from the last team Kritiker sent after them, years ago."  
  
Aya didn't respond verbally, but his eyes did narrow slightly at Omi's admission.  
  
Reaching out a hand, Omi slid it down until it rested roughly in the middle of the faint outline, and pushed, while at the same time sliding the panel to his right. After a moment, he set his other hand against he wood and put his weight against it. There was a slight creak, and then the panel slid aside smoothly and silently.  
  
Omi smiled as he stepped through the door. There, set about fifteen feet away was an empty elevator shaft. The area looked as though it was fairly well kept, not a speck of dust to be found anywhere. Walking up to the elevator shaft, Omi pressed the floor indicator button, smiling a little as he heard the slight hum of the cables working.  
  
"They'll be too busy trying to break through the mess we left behind to pay attention to something like the freight elevators, so we should be able to use it to get to the ground floor undetected." He explained to Aya, who had come through the open door to investigate.  
  
Aya looked for a moment as though he wanted to argue that point, but for some reason decided not to when he saw the look on Omi's face. There was something there that made him instantly wary.  
  
Omi had that look on his face that meant he was busy calculating strategy and odds in his head, weighing risk against failure and coming up short. He watched the younger man pace the confines of the hidden room, blue eyes troubled while they waited for the elevator to arrive.   
  
He knew they only had a limited amount of time before the guards found them again, and when they did... They had to know about the hidden door and the freight elevator. One of them would have to draw the guards away and keep them from realizing that they'd been tricked until it was too late. After all, there was no way that the guards could know that they knew about the hidden room.   
  
All he had to do was find a way to convince Aya that he was the best choice to act as the decoy in this situation. Unlike Aya, he wasn't wounded and would be able to keep the guards busy without putting himself into too much danger.  
  
If he was careful.  
  
"Abyssinian - "  
  
Omi was cut off when they heard the shouts of their pursuers from further out down the hallway. Pounding footsteps followed a moment later, drawing closer with each moment. Whirling as the elevator platform came to a clanking halt behind them, Omi made his decision.   
  
Reaching into his pocket he drew out the data disk that had been the main focus of their mission. On it were names and files that if brought to light would destroy the reputations of countless businessmen and politicians. Kritiker had been after the information on that disk for years, and they couldn't afford to lose it now.  
  
"Take it and go, Abyssinian. You're wounded and there are too many of them for you to handle. I'll keep them at bay long enough for you to escape and then I'll follow you."   
  
Aya opened his mouth to protest, and then Omi _looked_ at him, something in his eyes warning Aya to listen to him.  
  
"Trust me, Abyssinian, I know what I'm doing. I'm in no hurry to get myself killed."  
  
It was those words, along with the serious light in Omi's eyes that convinced Aya, despite his misgivings. He knew Omi had been doing this sort of thing far longer than he had, and that he was possibly even more well trained than he himself was, but it was _Omi_.   
  
The same Omi that insisted on leaving a saucer of milk on the back steps of the shop for stray cats. The same Omi who took their old clothes down to the homeless shelter every fall. The same Omi who made a special flower arrangement for him to take to his sister every week. The same Omi who had sat down with him when he'd first shown up at the Koneko and shown him how to make his first flower arrangement. The same Omi who'd sat up late watching an anime marathon last Friday instead of studying for his exams.   
  
It was those things, and countless other little things that he did or said that made up the person Aya knew as Omi. The person Aya cared for in his own way as more than a teammate, and more than a friend. More like a brother.  
  
"Go!"  
  
Aya blinked as Omi shoved him roughly, causing him to stumble backwards on the elevator platform. He caught a flash of movement as Omi slapped the 'down' button, and then the elevator was moving. The last thing he saw before the elevator sank out of view was Omi reaching for his darts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**TBC...**

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Apologies to anyone reading this...it was written in the wee hours of the morning on too little sleep and far too much carbonated beverages virtually oozing caffeine than is actually good for the human body. Also, anything involving action-related scenes have been left out of this part due to the writer's inability to write them at the moment in a way that does not have little comic balloons saying 'pow!', 'bam!', or (her all time favorite) 'biff!' (You'll have to wait for later parts for that. ^_~)

[1] - I'm aware that Omi doesn't actually have such a knife in the anime (I've not yet had the chance to read the manga) but *I* like to think he would have something like it. Darts and arrows are all well and good but you can't use them to splice wires, now can you? And besides, what self-respecting florist/assassin would be caught dead without at least *one* knife on him? O.O;;


	5. Games of chance and helping the less for...

Part five of Hoshiko's (late) birthday present. Almost done, star kid! _

~silvershadeus~

Disclaimer: I do not own _Weiß Kreuz_, I'm just borrowing the characters for a little bit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**The Little Things - Part 5**

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ken had no idea how things had come to this. Honestly, he didn't. He'd simply gotten up to grab something to drink from the fridge during the commercial break, fully intending to go back to watch the rest of the movie. Somehow, he'd wound up sitting across from Yohji at the kitchen table, embroiled in a game of chance, the TV blaring in the background, almost certainly mocking him.  
  
"Got any twos?"  
  
Glancing down the cards in his hand, Ken felt a certain degree of satisfaction mingled with a touch of smugness.   
  
"Go fish."  
  
Swearing, Yohji threw his hand on the table, green eyes narrowed in frustration. Watching him, Ken couldn't help but smirk. And then smirk some more when Yohji looked at him suspiciously.  
  
"Ken...I'm bored."  
  
Fighting to keep from laughing at the pathetically dejected look on Yohji's face, Ken suddenly realized why he'd caved in earlier. It was sad that Yohji had been playing blackjack - by himself - but far sadder had been the 'kicked puppy' look that had been on his face when he'd turned to look at Ken. He suspected that Yohji had been taking lessons from Omi, to master that particular expression so well.  
  
He was about to suggest that Yohji go find something to do himself, when he ran the older man's words back through his mind. Coupled with the fact that Yohji had been dejected and morose when he hadn't been snapping at anything Ken had to say, he heard the underlying meaning in his words.  
  
It must have been easier for Yohji to admit to being bored than it was for him to admit to being lonely. Which he undoubtedly was, judging from his behavior in the last few days. Ken felt bad for him, he missed Aya and Omi as well, but Yohji was taking their absences far worse than he was. It was...strange.  
  
"Yohji..."  
  
Ken stopped as Yohji turned listless eyes to him, all but screaming his deep, almost heartbreaking sense of loneliness. It hurt, to see someone like Yohji looking like that.   
  
"Grab your coat."  
  
Blinking, Yohji sat up in his chair, watching as Ken got to his feet, heading towards the living room to turn the TV off.   
  
"I said grab your coat. I never thought I'd have to say this to you, but you need to get out once in a while. You aren't doing anyone any good moping around like a lovesick puppy."  
  
Ken smiled to himself as he saw anger spark in Yohji's eyes, his mouth tightening to a thin line as he glared at the younger man.  
  
"Up! On your feet, Kudou. We've got things to do." Ken barked, grinning to himself when Yohji staggered to his feet without his usual grace.  
  
"Don't 'Kudou' me, Hidaka. I'm not going anywhere." Yohji growled, green eyes narrowed. "And you're idea of fun is to check out the new sports stuff at the mall. Nothing doing."  
  
Ken smirked again, letting it show this time. He was the only one who could get under Yohji's skin like that, and he loved doing it. It more than made up for all the times Yohji teased him.  
  
"You just said you were bored. Wouldn't you rather go out and be bored that stay here and be bored?   
  
Yohji seemed to consider it for a moment, eyes sliding to the left and down. Ken waited, crossing his arms and smiling patiently.   
  
"No."  
  
Sighing, Ken crossed the distance separating them and snagged Yohji's arm, dragging older man after him.  
  
"Too bad. You're coming with me. I'm not going to sit here all night long playing card games with you while listening to you complain." Ken replied, easily avoiding Yohji's flailing fists.  
  
Realizing that he wasn't going to get out of going with Ken, Yohji gave up resisting, sagging a little in Ken's hold. For his part, Ken simply readjusted his grip on his arm.  
  
"So you'd rather I complained in public?"  
  
Ken paused, turning to look at Yohji with a nasty little smile.  
  
"Go ahead, feel free to. I don't care that that would ruin your reputation as a mature ladies man, Yohji."  
  
Scowling, Yohji straightened, jerking his arm free of Ken's.  
  
"Bastard."  
Ken grinned, dark eyes filled with amusement.  
  
"Shut up and go get your coat, you'll thank me later for dragging your sorry but out of here."  
  
Grumbling darkly under his breath, Yohji did as he was told, feeling oddly like a petulant child, and not particularly caring at the moment.

*********

"Ken?"  
  
Looking over at Yohji, Ken couldn't help but smile at the look on the older man's face. Somewhere between amused and annoyed.  
  
"What is it, Yohji?"  
  
"What are we doing here?"  
  
"Well, this is a grocery store. You figure it out."  
  
Glaring, Yohji resisted the urge to do something incredibly childish and immature such as sticking his tongue out at Ken. Although he felt the situation warranted it, he doubted it would help his image as the suave ladies man. Despite the fact that he wasn't looking for any female companions that might come his way with Omi to snuggle up to at night.  
  
"That was almost clever, Kenken. Why did you drag me out to the store with you? Surely you could have handled this all by yourself?"  
  
Ignoring the sarcasm all but dripping from Yohji's voice, Ken grinned over his shoulder at him.  
  
"Quite complaining, Yohji. It's unmanly of you. And besides, we're here to help the less fortunate."  
  
Lifting an eyebrow, Yohji poked through the items in the basket Ken had insisted he carry. Pushing aside the pocky and rice candy, he found little proof to back up Ken's claim. He seriously doubted the 'less fortunate' would find reading sports magazines helpful to their situation. He said as much, earning him another grin from Ken.  
  
"If you must know, I'm doing this as a favor to Omi. I almost forgot, but that pathetic look on your face earlier reminded me."   
  
Obviously unaware of the affect his words had had on Yohji, Ken continued down the aisle, unaware of the glare directed at him.  
  
"Before he left on his school trip he asked me to put some food and water out for the stray cats that live in the alley behind the shop." Ken explained, stopping to examine the different brands of cat food on the shelf before him. "He would have asked you, I'm sure, but you were out like a light, and he had to leave. And besides, you would have forgotten to anyway, he knows how you get when he's not around."  
  
Feeling a little hurt that Omi had asked Ken instead of him for that little favor, Yohji had to admit that it made sense. One corner of his mouth twitched upwards in a rueful smile. Omi really did know him too well at times.   
  
"So what's with the rest of this stuff?"  
  
Ken shrugged, finally settling on a bag of cat food. Placing it in the basket Yohji was holding, he smiled a little sheepishly.  
  
"Just stuff I wanted to get earlier when I went out this afternoon but forgot to buy."  
  
"Pocky?"  
  
Ken shrugged helplessly.  
  
"Omi got me hooked on the stuff a while back when I was helping him study for his exams. What can I say? It's good."   
  
"Fine, fine. Whatever. Are we ready to go now?"  
  
"Yeah. Oh, by the way, you're helping me feed the little monsters." Ken added, leading the way to the checkout cahiers, "I'll never know how Omi does it by himself because it is most certainly _not_ a one man job."   
  
Snorting, Yohji followed Ken, muttering darkly to himself all the while. As if feeding a bunch of cats was all that hard. 

*********

Staring at the veritable horde of cats crowding eagerly around the backdoor of the flower shop, Yohji finally thought he understood what Ken had meant earlier. It was difficult enough wading through the scrawny, dirty bodies that blocked the way to the small area Omi had cleared away to place several dishes. Yohji couldn't imagine how Omi managed to do that _and_ place the food in the dishes without being smothered by the starving cats currently yowling for attention.  
  
"And he does this every night?" He asked incredulously, wincing as a particularly persistent cat sank a claw into his leg as it pawed at him for attention.  
  
Ken didn't look over at him, so intently was he concentrating on making his way through the mass of furry bodies without stepping on a paw or tail, or spilling the food dishes in his hands.  
  
"Twice a day, actually. They're probably hungrier now because I forgot to put food out his morning. Don't worry, they're harmless...for the most part."  
  
Shaking his head in silent wonder, Yohji concentrated on setting the last of the food bowls down, stepping well out of the way as the cats rushed in. Moving back to the relative safety the doorway offered, he smiled as Ken stumbled over a half-grown kitten twining about his ankles.  
  
"Enthusiastic little things aren't they."  
  
Ken nodded, a smile forming on his face as he the feeding frenzy eventually wound down, individual cats beginning to wander away to bathe themselves and digest their food.  
  
"Friendly too."  
  
Blinking, Yohji looked over at him, and started when he felt a light pressure against his calf. Looking down, he saw a pair of amber-gold eyes peering up at him out of a triangular shaped face.  
  
He was completely undone when the cat uttered a sweet little cry, begging to be petted. Grumbling to himself, Yohji knelt and scratched the cat behind its ears, delighted when the amber eyes slitted in pleasure, a deep purr rumbling through its slight frame.  
  
Amazed that such a little thing as having a cat purring at him should make him feel so happy, Yohji smiled, obliging the cat as it lifted its chin by scratching gently. It was no wonder Omi fed these cats, if this was what he got in return. Although Yohji knew the younger blonde would have continued to feed them even if they snarled at him the whole time.   
  
Running his fingers through the dirty fur, Yohji barely noticed when Ken left him alone with the cats, some of which were beginning to get curious about the new addition to their ragtag group. Laughing a little as they pressed against him seeking attention, Yohji failed to notice the sound of unsteady footsteps drawing nearer.   
  
Reaching forward to scratch a gray tabby under its chin, Yohji jerked his hand back as the animal hissed, reflexively striking out at Yohji, its claws scoring three neat lines on his hand. Cradling his injured hand to his chest, Yohji eyed the cats warily, a look of realization dawning on his face as the rest of the cats growled low in warning, fur bristling, backs arched.  
  
Yohji whirled, green eyes widening as he caught sight of the slender form leaning heavily against he rough stone of the Koneko.  
  
"Aya?"  
  
The redhead took another stumbling step forward, one arm held protectively to his torso.   
  
Rushing forward, Yohji yelled for Ken as Aya collapsed, sending the last of the cats running as they smelled blood and death on the intruder. Dropping to his knees beside Aya, Yohji paled as he turned the redhead over and saw the blood coating his hand, staining his clothes.  
  
"It's going to be all right, Aya. We'll take care of you, don't worry." Yohji babbled, on the verge of panic.   
  
Aya opened his eyes when he felt Yohji's hand on his forehead, smoothing away hair that was plastered to his skin by sweat and blood.  
  
"...Omi?"  
  
"No, it's me, Yohji. Aya, what happened? Aya?"  
  
Aya shook his head, a look of irritation and anger crossing his face.  
  
"Mission..." He gritted out, obviously fighting to stay conscious. "...Manx...call her..."  
  
Yohji's eyes widened, his grip on Aya's shoulders tightening as the redhead's eyes closed, his body slumping in Yohji's arms.  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TBC...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Hmmmm...it turned out differently than I'd planned, but them's the breaks, I guess. 


	6. Someone you wouldn't want to meet in the...

Part six of Hoshiko's (late) birthday present.

Disclaimer: I do not own _Weiß Kreuz_, I'm just borrowing the characters for a little bit.

~silvershadeus~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**The Little Things - Part 6**

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Skidding a little over shards of shattered glass, Omi wheeled around, darts poised to throw. He was quickly running out of escape routes as the guards cut him off from them one by one. Any admiration he might have felt towards their skill and ability was quickly fading into annoyance and frustration as they systematically closed in on him. He'd been driven down four more floors by them, but was unable to go any further with the reinforcements covering the ground floor.  
  
He'd made his way to a large storage room on one of the lower floors that looked as though it was seldom used. Several of the windows set high up on the wall were broken, their remains littering the floor along with metal piping and leftover construction materials. Shaking his head as he thought he heard movement off to his left, Omi slid into the shadows instinctively seeking shelter.  
  
A flash of color to his left brought him around, darts flying from his hand in a glittering arc. The muted sound of his darts striking flesh met his ears along with a loud clatter as though his assailant had dropped something. A muttered curse and the scuffle of feet and he threw himself into a roll as his attacker came closer, holding something in his hand like a club.   
  
Weaponless now that he'd expended the last of his darts, Omi twisted his wrist, the knife falling into his hand. Jumping backwards, Omi kept a measured distance between himself and his attacker, blue eyes sizing his opponent up. A young guard by the looks of him, clothes bloodstained over his shoulder and chest where Omi's darts had marked him. He held a piece of metal pipe in his hand, rusted and covered in grime. Dancing back out of his range, Omi watched the other man closely waiting for the poison on his darts to take effect.  
  
Avoiding the guard's swings with the metal pipe, Omi smiled grimly to himself as he saw the older man's attacks growing weaker. He'd recovered those darts from another guard he'd killed on one of the upper floors, forced to reuse them in order to remain armed. There was still enough poison on them to kill, but as Omi continued to evade the guard's increasingly erratic blows, the poison simply wasn't working fast enough. There was no telling when more guards would find him, he didn't have time to waste waiting for the one guard to die.  
  
Gripping the hilt of his knife tightly, Omi waited until the guard took another swing at him before attacking. Easily dodging the blow he ducked in under the man's arms and struck, wincing as the blade sliced easily through the man's throat, blood spilling over his hands. Gagging, Omi darted away, turning away from the dying guard, eyes wide and gasping for breath. Trying to block out the strangled gurgling from behind him, Omi took a halting step forward - and froze as something at the edge of his senses reached him.   
  
Turning, he saw a flash of white and bright red moments before he was slammed against the far wall by an invisible force. Sliding down the wall as his legs refused to support his weight, Omi caught a glimpse of a shadowed figure moving towards him.  
  
//_Hello, kitten._//

*********

Yohji hated hospitals. He always had. They reeked of sterility and sickness and death. He hated watching people in flimsy hospital gowns waiting to die, and judging by the looks in some of their eyes - they knew it. And the thing that made it worse was that Aya was lying still as any corpse, in the hospital bed in the room in front of him.  
  
Yohji had left after a few minutes, unable to stand seeing the redhead bled white and laying so still. Ken was still in there however, red-eyed and vulnerable waiting for his lover to open his eyes. Such a little thing, but at that moment it was the most important thing to Ken. Just to have tangible proof that Aya was going to be all right.  
  
Grimacing, Yohji continued his useless pacing itching for one of his cigarettes. The doctors had whisked Aya away the moment they stepped through the emergency room doors without asking needless questions. It was only to be expected, this was the hospital Kritiker had wrapped around their grubby little pinky. The hospital they went to where they knew no questions would be asked - or answered.  
  
Dipping a hand into his coat pocket, Yohji's lips thinned as he fingered the computer disk there. Ken had fund it hidden on Aya during the frantic ride to the hospital. Yohji had said nothing at the time, deciding that Ken had enough on his mind to worry about without bringing up the fact that Aya had mentioned Omi and some kind of mission. Ken's discovery of the computer disk had clinched it in Yohji's mind.   
  
He had called Manx after they'd gotten word that Aya would be all right with a blood transfusion and some time to recuperate, and she had said she would arrive as soon as she was able. There had been something in her vice that Yohji hadn't liked. A sort of cool detachment that went further than her usual indifference to their lives in general. Yohji had the feeling that it didn't bode well for whatever explanation - or excuses - she would have to give him.

*********

Eyes widening as Schuldig stepped out of the shadows, Omi scrambled to get away, but that same invisible force pinned him in place, helpless against the approaching German.  
  
//_Long time no see, eh?_// The German asked, his mental voice slithering through Omi's thoughts with horrifying ease.  
  
Omi struggled against the force holding him motionless, eyes wild as Schuldig loomed over him, panic clawing at his throat.  
  
"Really, that's no way to act, kitten. We just took care of those nasty, nasty men who were trying to kill you. You could at least be grateful for that." Schuldig said, somehow managing to sound hurt through the wicked smile on his lips.   
  
Kneeling before Omi, Schuldig reached out to wipe a smear of blood from Omi's face, green eyes unreadable. Catching Omi's terrified eyes watching him, Schuldig smirked, turning his touch into a caress, fingers lingering over the curve of Omi's cheek.   
  
Jerking away from the German's touch, Omi glared at him blue eyes narrowed. Seeing that, Schuldig grinned, something dark flitting through his eyes.  
  
//_So spirited. Maybe I could fix that - _ //Schuldig began, his mental voice sliding into something like a purr, radiating pure sensuality.   
  
Omi gritted his teeth, turning his head away as Schuldig's fingers explored his face, tracing the line of his jaw and playing over the fine hairs of his eyebrows, his touch feather-light.  
  
"Schuldig. We're here for a reason."  
  
Swearing softly under his breath as a smooth voice cut into the silence, Schuldig drew back from Omi casting an annoyed look over his shoulder at the slight figure that stood just in the shadows.  
  
"Fine, fine. But afterwards..."  
  
"No. Crawford wants us to return as soon as we get what we came for."  
  
Turning back to Omi, Schuldig smirked.  
  
//_What...interesting...phrasing, eh kitten? I've got what I came here for._//  
  
"That's not what I meant, Schuldig." Nagi clarified, shooting his teammate a dark glower. "The mission, remember?"  
  
Sighing, Schuldig got to his feet, eyes straying over the lines of Omi's body.   
  
"Schuldig."  
  
Glancing at eh slight figure at his side, Schuldig grinned disarmingly.   
  
"All right, all right." He muttered, his gaze sliding back to Omi.   
  
Omi honestly didn't know which was worse: having Schuldig looking at him as though he were a particularly tasty morsel and pawing at him, or having Schuldig looking at him with no emotion on his face at all.  
  
Nagi's gaze switched from Schuldig to Omi, something in their depths causing him to shudder involuntarily.   
  
"Where is the disk?"  
  
Omi remained silent, blue eyes locked with Nagi's.   
  
"I'll ask you once more, where is the disk?" Nagi repeated, growing impatient as the minutes passed and Omi refused to answer.  
  
Still he said nothing.  
  
"He's not going to talk, Nagi. The kitten is far too noble to ever do something like betray his teammates or the mission...isn't that right, kitten?"  
  
Omi's eyes narrowed further at the mocking tone in Schuldig's voice. The German's opinion on the matter was clear to anyone who cared to hear it.  
  
"Schuldig." There was a frightening sense of finality in the way Nagi said his teammates name. As though he had no other choice but to resort to using the German telepath's talents.  
  
The German smiled nastily, and turned his eyes back to Omi.  
  
"This will only hurt a little bit, kitten. Try not to scream too much."   
  
And then Omi felt something slipping into his mind on sharp little feet, ripping at his mind and tossing his thoughts upside down and inside out. Something burned in his mind as the invasion went deeper, scattering thought and memory in its path. Instinctively Omi tried to fight it, to block it from his mind.  
  
//_Sorry kitten, but I've no times for games._// Schuldig whispered - sounding genuinely apologetic - moments before agonizing pain erupted in Omi's mind and the world around him faded to nothing. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TBC...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Erm...I apologize for the cheesy fight scene...we don't get along, fight scenes and me. And as for Schuschu and Nagi? They sort of snuck in. ^^;;


End file.
